


By Any Other Name

by auri_mynonys



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Alien Biology, Cutesy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Mechpreg, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-26
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21573928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auri_mynonys/pseuds/auri_mynonys
Summary: There are a lot of things that are weird about Jack Darby’s life - but watching two giant alien robots fight about what to name their soon-to-be-born daughter is definitely one of the weirdest.
Relationships: Megatron/Optimus Prime
Comments: 19
Kudos: 286





	By Any Other Name

There are a lot of things that are weird about Jack Darby’s life - but watching two giant alien robots fight about what to name their soon-to-be-born daughter is definitely one of the weirdest.

If he hadn’t seen it with his own two eyes, Jack would never have believed these two were mortal enemies once. The chasm between how they behaved when he first met them and how they are now is about as wide as the Grand Canyon and as deep as the Mariana Trench. Then again, maybe they’ve always been like this. Ratchet _did_ say they’d been very close before the war. 

Jack just hadn’t thought they were _that_ kind of close.

Megatron is still big and silver and scarred up and red-eyed, and Optimus is still heroic and sad-eyed and somber; but they are currently huddled on a couch-like thing in their now-shared quarters, Optimus seated between Megatron’s splayed legs with his back to the warlord’s chest, and Megatron with one giant arm wrapped around Optimus’ waist, servo resting protectively over a small rounded place in Optimus’ belly. Optimus is holding a datapad and tapping a digit against his mouth, brows drawn together as he reads.

“Edythe?” he says, in that quiet, rumbling voice.

Megatron frowns, considering. “It’s not the _worst_ designation you’ve posed,” he grumbles. “Does it have a meaning, or is it merely another human nonsense word?”

“According to this documentation, it means _blessed war,_ ” Optimus replies. He makes a disapproving little sound, brows drawing downward as he shakes his helm. “Never mind. I am removing that from the list of potential designations.”

“And here I liked it all the better for its meaning,” Megatron drawls.

“It’s a name for grandmas,”Jack interjects, wishing he was anywhere but here. Watching two giant warrior robots be grotesquely domestic over their upcoming parenthood is an experience he’d happily skip out on if he could. He’d have left a long time ago if he hadn’t promised Optimus to help him sort out what names were human-appropriate and what names might cause confusion or offense.

Megatron casts him a scorching glare, menacing him without words. “I do not recall Optimus requesting your input, Jack Darby,” he growls. He’s all sharp angles and protective fury, hugging Optimus closer - as if he wasn’t mere months ago trying to kill the Prime with the same hands that touch him so gently.

Jack pretends not to be intimidated, folding his arms over his chest and sinking lower in his (thankfully human-sized) chair. “Optimus asked me to be here specifically _for_ my input,” he replies. “And I’m telling you - Edythe is a grandma’s name. Do you want your sparkling to come out acting like Ratchet?”

Megatron hisses, lip curling. “What a nightmare _that_ would be.”

Optimus slaps him lightly on the chest, metal plating making a _ting_ as the flat of his hand meets Megatron’s armor. “Be nice,” Optimus says, managing to sound only faintly amused. Megatron’s hatred of Ratchet (and Ratchet’s equally intense dislike of Megatron) is a constant source of drama lately; one of the two is inevitably shouting at the other while Optimus sighs between them, looking tired. “What about… Eleora?”

“Oh, that’s pretty!” Jack says. He gives Optimus a thumbs up, smiling encouragingly. It’s the first name Optimus has picked that Jack has actually been kind of ok with.

Megatron pulls a face, like a child who’s been told to eat his vegetables. “It has ties to human religion, if this data repository is to be believed,” he says. It’s clear he disapproves of that notion from the little sneer he wears - though, if he actually knows anything about human religion, Jack will gladly eat his own shoe.

“The Lord its meaning refers to could be Primus,” Optimus says, but he’s already scrolling past it, a crestfallen look in his eyes.

“I know of only _one_ Lord who ought to be of any importance to our sparkling,” Megatron replies, smiling against Optimus’ helm. “And _he_ has no particular love of humans.”

It’s kind of delightful how Optimus actually _rolls his optics_ at Megatron in that fond, disapproving way only long-suffering spouses can achieve. “Eleftheria?”

“Sounds like a disease,” Jack interjects, right as Megatron’s optics brighten with interest. “And no one in America is going to pronounce that right.”

“Hmm. Lysandra is suggested as an alternative,” Optimus says. “It means _One Who Is Freed._ ”

He reaches back for Megatron and lays a servo against his helm, petting the scarred silver metal with absent affection. Megatron actually makes a _purring_ sound and nuzzles Optimus’ audial with his faceplate. For one horrible second, Jack thinks he’s going to be treated to an up-close-and-personal view of an alien robot makeout - but Megatron sticks to canoodling, which is only a hair’s-breadth better.

“Well. For a _human_ name, I suppose it’s acceptable,” says Megatron, which Jack has realized is as close as he’ll get to admitting he loves it. 

Optimus looks thoughtful, tilting his helm. “Why does the name _Elmo_ sound familiar?”

“Oh _god_ no,” Jack says in horror. “First of all, that’s a _boy’s_ name, and secondly, Elmo is a fuzzy red puppet on a children’s TV show. Trust me, bad choice, Optimus.”

Optimus looks a bit sad about the revelation, but nods in that somber, understanding way of his, swiping away. Megatron is glaring at Jack again, that fierce, protective glare, as if he has any right to be angry at someone hurting Optimus’ feelings. Jack glares back at him, refusing to back down. The pair exchange angry stares until Optimus speaks again. “Erasmus?”

Where the hell is Optimus even _finding_ these names? “Also a boy name,” Jack says, shaking his head. “And _weird._ ”

“Does it matter?” Megatron replies disdainfully. “If you _humans_ choose to label yourselves by your interfacing equipment, that is your business, but we need not abide by your petty distinctions if we do not wish to.”

And now this has gone from _weird_ to _unbelievably awkward._ Jack already knows he’s turning tomato red, hearing Megatron casually reference _interface equipment_ like it’s nothing. It’s bad enough that he’s now aware Cybertronians can actually get pregnant; he doesn’t want to know how it happens.

Well. Maybe he’s a _teeny_ bit curious. He just doesn’t want to know how _Optimus_ got pregnant. He’ll accept divine conception where Optimus is concerned and leave it at that, regardless of the big silver mech claiming sirehood behind him.

“The entire purpose in choosing a human designation for our sparkling is to link her with human culture as well as Cybertronian,” Optimus says gently. “It is best if we abide by their rules. Though it is odd to me that designations are so specific to gender.”

“It is not only odd, it is _absurd,_ ” Megatron growls, and oh, boy, here he goes again. The past few months have taught Jack that Megatron can and will go on a political rant at the drop of a hat, figurative or literal. “It reeks of the propaganda of the High Council and their underlings, confining these fleshlings to a designated type regardless of their personal feelings on the matter. As if interfacing equipment ever impacted one’s ability to perform a duty! And Primus forbid your frame type does not fit your spark’s image of yourself - these humans cannot simply transform as we do, and should they attempt it, they are reviled and ridiculed and even _murdered -_ ”

“I know, love,” Optimus soothes. He catches Megatron’s hand in his and pulls it to his lips, kissing the bigger mech’s knuckles. Jack looks away, embarrassed and uncomfortable. “I agree that it is despicable, but humans have risen to defend the rights of their brethren.”

“Some of them, anyway,” Megatron says, reluctantly dropping the subject. He loathes everything to do with the human race, but he certainly can talk about human politics like he’s an expert. “Hmm. What of this one? _Eureka_?”

Great, now Megatron’s picking names too. Optimus was bad enough. Megatron would probably go in for something like Gertrude, or Ermentraude. “No,” Jack says. “No, no, no.”

“Optimus may want your opinion, but I do not,” Megatron snaps. 

“Look, if you want to name your kid after a TV show, be my guest,” Jack retorts. “I’m telling you, if your kid was human, other kids would beat her up on the playground for that name.”

“Then we may all be grateful she is not human,” Megatron says. His optics burn bright red and furious, a fearsome snarl on his lips. “She is the daughter of the Champion of Kaon; she carries a warrior’s coding in her very CNA, and she will be as fierce and mighty as her sire!”

“Though perhaps with a touch less ego,” Optimus says dryly. Megatron has the decency to look a tiny bit chastened. “She might, perchance, be more like her carrier: an archivist and scholar, curious and quiet.”

“That would be no bad thing, my sweet one.” He kisses Optimus’ audial, and Jack shrinks deeper into his chair, covering his face with one hand.

“Besides, regardless of her temperament, I would not have her fighting wars and seeing violence as we have,” Optimus continues. “To have her trapped in a cycle of endless warfare… that to me is unfathomable.”

Megatron is instantly softer, quieter, bumping his faceplate against Optimus’ helm like a cat asking for pets. “I would have her know peace as much as you would, Optimus,” he says. “That need not preclude skill on the battlefield, however.”

Optimus makes a vaguely disapproving humming noise, and Megatron drops the subject. Jack shakes his head in wonder. Only Optimus Prime can calm Megatron like this: the only mech Megatron will ever listen to, bow to. “Farsiris, perhaps? It means _princess._ ”

“ _Perfect._ ” Megatron actually looks _happy_ for a split second. Then he remembers that Jack is there and frowns, casting Jack a suspicious look, as if to say _you didn’t see that._ “For a _human_ name, that is.”

Optimus chuckles quietly and flicks his palm open. Glyphs form in a stream of blue light and then disappear. “I shall mark that one as a positive, then.” He glances at Jack and must read in his body language that he’s over this little exercise. He sets the datapad aside and smiles. “I imagine you have chores to do for June this evening.”

Jack sighs in relief, trying not to leap from his chair. “Sure do! A whole big list. I should get back and work on those.”

“Of course. Thank you for your assistance, Jack. It is most appreciated. Please ask Ratchet to send a bridge to your home for you.” Optimus gestures, and the door slides open, allowing Jack to exit.

Just before the door closes behind him, Jack hears Megatron murmur, “Well, now that the _fleshling_ is gone… shall we see that this little one receives her required nanites?”

The way he purrs the words, and the way Optimus laughs in reply, makes Jack shudder. He has no idea what that means - but it’s _definitely_ horny and he _definitely_ wants no part of it. 

He’s grateful for Ratchet’s gruff farewell and the hum of the groundbridge, and more grateful still when he gets home to silence and absolutely no weirdly intimate robots anywhere in sight.

  
  



End file.
